Spiders
by supremegreendragon
Summary: We fear the silliest things sometimes. Mormor. Rated for safety.


A sudden scream snapped his eyes open and he was reminded of the time he was sleeping in the trenches at war where you could hear a scream like, every five seconds. He realized that he was in his flat that he shared with Jim and it was his roommate who had just screamed. The sniper grabbed his gun from under the pillow and rushed over to his boss's room. Moran cocked the weapon at the thought of whatever caused Jim to scream like that.

The door to Jim's room was closed. Moran paused close by with his gun drawn close to his chest, trying to hear what was going on.

"Moran!" Jim's voice cried out.

He couldn't hear anyone else in the room. Moran kicked the door down and aimed his pistol. But no one else was there. Jim came up and cowered behind his employee. It was very unusual to see him do so, since Jim was capable of being very cool under danger.

"Shoot it!" he cried in Moran's ear.

The sniper noted a small daddy long legs on the table. But surely to God that wasn't what Jim was referring to. There had to have been something else in the room that was making his boss so scared. However, Moran couldn't find any other life or danger in sight.

"Shoot what?" he finally asked, turning to Jim.

The criminal mastermind glared like he was stupid. Jim's face turned to fear when he glanced over at the table.

"That spider, you moron!"

No way. Moran's initial suspicions had been right. His boss was really shouting his lungs out over a harmless bug. And Moran didn't think daddy long legs even were spiders. He read that somewhere.

A swell of pride that for once, he knew something Jim didn't. But he didn't know where he read this tid bit of information or what else the bug could be, so as much as Moran wanted to, he didn't correct his boss. Which was a shame because he would have liked to gloat.

What was a more pressing matter was how Jim clutched dearly onto his shoulders and tried backing away with his body shield. Moran swallowed thickly. Why did his boss have to be so hot? And Jim looked so adorable when he was scared. Jim and Moran both knew that the other one liked men. However, they were not together as some of Jim's other employees thought. Moran didn't dare ask Jim out and Jim seemed too fascinated with his work and with Sherlock Holmes to be interested in him.

"You want me to shoot it? Why don't you just squish it?"

Jim didn't look at him. He kept his eyes on the bug as if taking his eye off it for a second would make it jump right on his face and bite him.

"Don't be stupid," he may have been aiming for his voice to sound harsh but there was too much fear inside it, "I don't like getting my hands dirty."

"It can't hurt you," insisted Moran.

And why did Jim's frightened, warm breath have to be so close to Moran's ear? The sniper shivered and tried not to show how excited he was the Jim was practically glued to him. It was pure bliss for his boss to be so close, touching him.

"Of course it can. What if it injects its poison in me? Then I'll be dead!"

"I have dealt with spiders a hundred times bigger than that and the only thing that their bites did was give me a rash."

"Size doesn't matter! I am ORDERING you to shoot it right now!"

Moran sighed. There was no point in shooting a spider. He had no doubt that with his well trained eye he could hit his mark if he tried. However, why waste the bullets?

"I'll just squish it," he made a move toward the bug but Jim held onto him tightly, not letting the sniper go any farther.

"No. You could get bit. I don't want you dead," Jim confessed.

Moran didn't look back at his boss because he was afraid that he might be blushing. Why was he acting like a lovesick teenager? But he was so shocked and pleased by what his boss said.

"Why is that?" he asked his boss while trying not to sound touched.

"Because you're no use to me dead. Will you just shoot the damn thing?" Jim shook him as if that would get him going.

Oh, was that all? Moran tried not to be too disappointed. Jim had their living arrangements in a place that was loaded with his fearful employees. Even the cops whose job it was to survey the area was secretly working for Jim. Moran knew that he could get away with shooting the spider without getting into trouble. And it seemed like Jim wasn't giving him any other choice. He couldn't believe he was really going to do this. Moran carefully aimed the gun at the unsuspecting creature, then fired. A hole blasted on the nice table and wood shavings flew everywhere. There was nothing left of the spider as the smell of gun powder wafted in the room.

"He's dead, Jim," Moran said, deliberately quoting Star Trek as a joke.

Jim waited for a moment. He seemed to be making sure that the spider was gone. It was blown to smithereens so Moran was confident that Jim had nothing to worry about.

Suddenly, Jim's whole demeanor changed to a calm and collected one. He let go of Moran's shoulders (much to Moran's dismay) and cooly adjusted his jacket.

"Good. I think a reward is in order."

"It was just a-" Moran trailed off when Jim gave him a very harsh stare.

Satisfied that Moran wasn't going to say anything stupid, Jim pulled out his cell.

"Hey. Make my room good as new by the time I get back. I know you want to keep your lungs so you won't disappoint me, right?" the person on the other end obviously said what Jim wanted to hear, "Good boy."

He snapped his phone shut and looked at his favorite sniper.

"Get dressed into something nice. I'm taking you out to eat. And for God's sakes, comb your hair."

Moran knew better than to make Jim wait. It was so surreal as he dolled himself up for his boss. When Jim told him to dress in something nice, he meant the nice navy blue dress shirt with matching pants and shiny black shoes. He also meant a good deal of cologne to cover up any 'gun smell' as Jim called it.

They were going somewhere expensive. Moran could tell. He rather just order a pizza. But Jim didn't let him choose his reward.

A nice, French restaurant. Fancy too. One of those deals with an appetizer, entree and dessert. Everyone assumed that they were a couple and neither men bothered to correct him.

Moran was on his best behavior, as he was supposed to be. He was a man with cheap tastes but Jim liked the finer things in life. This was no doubt more of a reward for Jim than it was for Moran.

After their quiet and awkward dinner, they were back at their flat. Which was perfectly cleaned and repaired as good as new.

Moran was startled when Jim suddenly grabbed onto him and kissed his ear. He tried to ignore how his manhood shot up with a happy 'hello.'

"What?" he asked, not knowing what to say.

"You're so dull," Jim was smiling when he said it so Moran figured he wasn't in any trouble.

"What are you talking about?"

Jim surprised the sniper even more when he threw Moran's coat off like it offended him and started working on Moran's buttons.

"I gave you hint after hint after hint. Well, today I gave up. I guess I just have to take a more direct approach."

Moran didn't know what to say. Jim took off his shirt. Was this all a beautiful dream?

And what did Jim mean about hints?

"I had to pretend I was a scared damsel in distress and you still didn't get it. Stupid, Sebby. Absolutely stupid."

Moran gave him a dumb look. Jim rolled his eyes up to his head.

"I was never scared of a stupid bug. I just wanted to get in your fucking pants. Do we understand now, stupid?"

Oh. It was slowly starting to process in Moran's mind.

What luck. The sexiest man on earth had the hots for him. Moran grabbed Jim forcefully and kissed his lips. The other man returned it with just as much force.

"Finally! I was tired of trying to drill it into your thick skull!" Jim exclaimed.

"I didn't think you'd be interested in me," Moran admitted.

"Like I said, Sebby. Size doesn't matter."

Moran's eye twitched. Jim wouldn't be saying that after bed.


End file.
